Mincing Words
By Stephanie Hunt, Tuesday, November 1, 2011Her words were the first to go, the initial loss of many losses, and now, as I clean out her home of 23 years, I find them everywhere. Words, phrases, sentences sometimes, occasionally short paragraphs, but mostly non sequiturs. Often requests or questions—“crush pills” or “bring wallet,” followed by stray comments: “too funny,” “not sure,” “had it once,” “see what you think.” Strings of words scrawled by weak, uncooperative fingers—you could flip the notepad pages and see her pristine, tight cursive becoming more and more unraveled and hard to read.
No Uncertain Terms
By Stephanie Hunt, Wednesday, June 1, 2011, 2 comments“Yes Ma’am” was the rule when I was growing up. “Yes Ma’am”—the unequivocal, ever-ready reply when answering my mother or grandmother, teacher or aunt—a swift, usually chipper, verbal nod. Talking back was not an option, at least not audibly. When I was really pissed off, the “Ma’am” became sassy punctuation, a spoken right hook, my tongue a balled fist pushing against my bottom teeth. “Yes. MA’AM!” I’d huff, then stomp off or slam the door. My combustible temper and polished manners all rolled up in one not-so-polite mouthful.
Today's Rant: To everything - turn, turn, turn ...
By Alisa Steinberg, Sunday, May 8, 2011, 2 comments“To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven.
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time of peace, I swear it's not to late."
Lyrics from The Byrds’ “Turn, Turn, Turn” taken from theBible/Book of Ecclesiastes










